


You Really Got a Hold On Me

by vega_voices



Series: Come Rain, Come Shine [24]
Category: Murphy Brown (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 09:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: She’d never tell him, his ego didn’t need the boost, but he was in fact worth waiting for.





	You Really Got a Hold On Me

**Title:** You Really Got a Hold On Me  
**Author:** vegawriters  
**Fandom:** Murphy Brown  
**Series:** Come Rain, Come Shine  
**Pairing** : Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt  
**Rating:** Adult. Come on. These two?  
**Timeframe:** Comes **after** _Just Like Riding a Bike_ (season 6)  
**A/N:** Filling in the gaps between Peter episodes  
Disclaimer: I do not make a penny from this. Fanfic is for fun, for community, for fixing canon. But remember that Murphy is Diane English’s baby. I’m just taking her out for a spin in the Porsche. I’ll bring her back safe, unscathed, and happy. I promise.

 **Summary:** _She’d never tell him, his ego didn’t need the boost, but he was in fact worth waiting for._

_Murphy,_

_Do you know how hard it is to find alone time when you’re bunking with a crew of four other guys? I mean, of course you do. I should know better._

_But none of these guys are writing love letters home. They aren’t sitting on the lumpy mattress, wishing someone was here with them. Wishing you were here. I stole that scarf from you, the one you were wearing the night I first kissed you. It still smells like your perfume and I keep it in my jacket pocket._

_I can’t stop thinking about the last time I was in town, about how you feel pressed up against me. I knew making love to you would be mind blowing but I had no idea what I was getting in to. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Do you realize your legs go all the way to your neck and quite frankly my favorite position with them is when they’re draped over my shoulders. I could spend an eternity worshipping you._

_The morning I left, I woke before you did. You were still asleep, sprawled across most of the bed, and I somehow wiggled my way back to you and you let me snuggle against you in your sleep. Your hair was in your face and when I brushed it away, you opened your eyes and smiled at me before telling me to keep my hands to myself and drifting off again. I couldn’t sleep after that. I did that creepy boyfriend thing - I watched you sleep and tried to memorize every line of your face because god only knew when I’d get to see you again._

_I keep dreaming of walking up to your door - I’ll bring roses this time. I know you like orchids, but a guy has to mix it up a little bit. And a toy for Avery. He’s an amazing kid and I’m so glad I had the chance to hang with both of you. It makes this feel even more real._

_When I get home, I’ll take you to dinner, and dancing at this club I know that celebrates all the classics. I keep seeing you in a dress that shows off your legs. Have I mentioned I love them? I dream of you pressing yourself against me, teasing me, until we stumble to the car and back to your place and trip over each other getting to the bedroom._

_Visions like this are what keeps me going. I have work to do, but it’s easier knowing you’re back there. I wish we could trust letters would get to me here. But I know you have that journal, and trust me, I’m taking it with me when I get back._

_-Peter_  
  
Murphy sighed and traced her fingers over the light blue paper. “Oh Peter, as soon as you get back …”

His letters were a highlight. After the first one, sent to her in a shell casing, they’d come to the house. Eldin had taken to leaving them next to the bud vase, propped up so she’d see them when she came in. Was this how her mother’s generation had felt? Racing home to find a letter waiting? Hoping for a connection across the water? They’d even had the chance to talk a week ago - for about three minutes on a line full of static, but just hearing his laugh had calmed her nerves just slightly. He was all right. And he missed her as much as she missed him. But, God only knew when Peter would be back again. Or for how long. This relationship was going to kill her. She was right, the geography problem would do them in. If only he wasn’t so damn good in bed. She’d never tell him, his ego didn’t need the boost, but he was in fact worth waiting for. Especially the way he loved to work her with his mouth. She’d never had a lover as dedicated as he was.

This letter alone dictated she needed to go shopping. Yes, she had plenty of dresses that would show off her legs, but something new, something just for him. God, when was the last time she wanted to go shopping for a man? Murphy pushed off her bed and went to the closet, rifling through the shorter dresses - as if date night was going to be anytime soon. She could find nothing. Nothing she wanted to show off, anyway. No. Definitely. Something new. Something just for him. God. He made her feel sixteen again, and under the embarrassment of the blush of new romance, she felt like she was flying. Everything tingled.

Avery pushed at the bedroom door, his nap interrupted, and Murphy chuckled and bent down to scoop up her son. He slept like she did - in fits and starts. “You want to watch something in here with me, buddy?” He nodded. She settled on the bed and turned on the TV, knowing he’d konk out in a moment. While he got sucked into a rerun of _Between The Lions_ , she grabbed the phone that had made its way into the bedroom and dialed a familiar number.

“Lisa!” She said as her oldest friend answered. “Hey, how’s Kaitlyn doing?” Her daughter was a couple of years older than Avery, and really, Lisa’s pregnancy had been what reminded Murphy that kids were still something she could try. “Hey … yeah. So. I need a favor.”

“I can’t watch Avery,” Lisa quipped back through the phone. “And I don’t care what night it is.”

Murphy laughed. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d be up for a shopping trip …”

“Oh? Wait.” Lisa paused. “You never take me shopping with you. I can’t even afford to go into the same stores you do. What’s going on?” She gasped. “Murphy Brown! What’s his name?!”

“I’ll tell you everything,” she promised her friend. “But tomorrow? Please. I need a dress and nothing I have is working.”

“Everything. I’ll even buy lunch.”

Murphy laughed and looked over at Avery. He was already fast asleep. “Noon?”

“It’s a date. I’ll pick you up.”

Murphy laughed and hung up. Avery remained asleep. Murphy slid the notebook for Peter out of her bedside table and opened it.

_Peter,_

_Got your letter. For your information, I’m going shopping tomorrow for a new dress, so you’d better come through on your promise to take me dancing because I don’t buy new dresses just for anyone._

_I miss you. I keep thinking about Sunday morning, how we just lingered around and read the paper - we didn’t kill each other. Coffee and muffins and it was perfect. I haven’t had a morning that wonderful in a very long time. The only thing that ruined it was you leaving, but despite my impatience, I can’t wait for you to come back._

_Dancing. You won’t be disappointed. And I promise you won’t have to hear me sing._

_-Murphy_

***

“No, too purple,” Lisa said as Murphy held a dress up in front of her. “For the love of God, Murphy, you’re looking for a dancing dress, not an evening gown.”

Murphy groaned. “This …”

“You have so many dresses at home that I know you haven’t worn. This guy must be something special if you’re shopping for him.” Lisa grinned and pulled a silver spaghetti strap shimmy off the rack and handed it over. “This. Now spill. I want details.”

“Like?” Murphy held the dress up in front of her. There was blue in the silver - her eyes just popped.

“Name?”

“Peter.” She held up the purple one which, Lisa was right, just wasn’t as good.

“Profession?”

“Journalist. He’s over in Serbia right now, actually.” She hung the purple one back up on the rack and glanced behind her at the kids. Katie was playing with a travel game and Avery had fallen asleep in his stroller.

“Great, you’re dating an adrenaline junkie. Which … yeah, it works for you. Finally someone who can keep up with you.” Lisa snickered.

“I’m not sure what that means, but thank you.” Murphy held the dress against her body again. “This isn’t too young for me?”

“You add a wrap and garters and you’re the sexiest thing in the club,” Lisa challenged. “So. Wait.” She grabbed Murphy by the shoulders and turned her, staring her down. “Peter. Journalist. Where did you meet?”

“Work …” Murphy knew where this was going. Crap.

“You are dating Peter Hunt. Peter Hunt. Mr. Six Pack. You are dating him. God, Murphy. Couldn’t you leave something for the rest of us? You’re beautiful, you’re brilliant, you’re acclaimed, your son never has to work a day in his life if he doesn’t want to. And now you’re dating Peter Hunt? I don’t know what to say other than what the hell did you do in a past life to deserve all of this? Because the rest of us were clearly serial killers.” She sighed. “Tell me he’s only lackluster in bed. Please.”

Murphy opened her mouth and then closed it again. Then she turned back to the mirror and found the inner courage Lisa always gave her. Walking toward the boutique dressing room she tossed over her shoulder, “Multiples, Lisa. Multiples. Not a myth. They happen.”

“I hate you.” Lisa groaned. “I absolutely hate you.”

Murphy laughed and stepped into the dressing room, quickly shucking her jeans and blouse for the sleek, silver dress that, once she got it on, was perfect. She didn’t look like a whore, didn’t look like she was trying to be twenty years younger. And she had a teal wrap that would match perfectly. She even had a pair of shoes that she hadn’t worn since before Avery was born that, if they were still comfortable, would round out the look perfectly.

Yep.

“The dress works!” Murphy called.

“Let me see.” Murphy emerged, smoothing the fabric down. Lisa groaned again. “Really, you must have saved abused puppies or something in a past life. God, you look amazing.”

“I hope he likes it …”

“Honey, he’s going to forget his name when you open the door. Now,” Lisa shooed her back into the dressing room to change. “Tell me more about him.”

Murphy wiggled back into her clothes and tossed the dress over her arm before continuing. “Well, he’s 39 and thinks I’m sexy. And we’ve been together for just about a month and he’s already comfortable with Avery.” She stepped out of the dressing room and took her purse from Lisa. Her friend didn’t need to know how much of the time they weren’t together. “He writes me steamy love letters, and I am smitten. Is that what you needed to hear?”

“Yes!” Lisa giggled. “The great Murphy Brown is smitten. This is one for the history books, you know.” She sighed. “Thank god.”

“Hey!”

“Look,” Lisa said as they made their way to the front counter, sleepy children in tow, “It’s been a while since you’ve been smitten and I’m sorry, Jerry Gold does not a long term partner make.”

“Hey --”

“No. Stop.” Lisa waited while Murphy handed over her credit card and the dress was wrapped in plastic. As they made their way out of the store and headed back to Lisa’s car, she spoke again. “I get that you have this amazing connection to Jerry Gold that the rest of the world doesn’t get to see. But guess what, Murphy. He was only going to isolate you in the long run.”

She sighed. “Can we not?”

“You never talked to me about Jerry until he was gone, Murphy. Peter … you’re still in the smitten stage.”

“I hate you when you’re right.”

“I know.” She took the dress while Murphy settled Avery into the car seat. “Come on. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

***

He’d called her office from the plane - he was landing at seven and he’d be there for three days again. She instantly told Miles she was taking Monday off. He correctly assumed what she was up to and told her to take as long as she needed. Really. They needed to talk about his obsession with getting Peter back on the show, but, she did take advantage of Miles being Miles and left early to get some play time in with Avery before she hopped in the shower and shaved her legs.

By the time the bell rang, she was ready. Knee length silver dress with a teal wrap and matching heels. Her hair loose, earrings dangling low, lace topped stockings held up by her favorite garter belt. Peter stared at her and she couldn’t help the smirk as she took his hand and pulled him into the foyer. Not caring that Eldin was in the living room, she let Peter tangle his hand in her hair and kissed the hell out of him. When they broke apart, he looked like dinner and dancing was the last thing on his mind.

Well, bub. You’d have to wait. So would she. She hadn’t dug these heels out of the back of her closet for nothing.

He recovered enough to hand her the roses - and the toy for Avery - and followed her as Murphy went to the kitchen to find a vase. Behind them, Eldin only chuckled, but didn’t say anything. Peter caught her against the counter and kissed her again, this time his hand moving up her leg and hooking on the clasp of the garter.

“You’re going to kill me,” he murmured.

“Later, definitely,” she teased. The kiss heated up and Peter’s hand was between her legs, pressing into the satin of her underwear before they regained themselves. “Later,” she murmured. “I thought you wanted to take me dancing.”

He groaned but the look on his face was all she needed. Why yes, Petey. She did read the letters.

The roses went into the vase. She thanked Eldin again for staying late and promised they’d be back by eleven. Hell, she expected to be back sooner than that. With a grin, she grabbed her purse and dragged Peter to the Porsche. No, he didn’t get to drive.

Yet.

“Where to after this?” She asked as they pulled off the street and headed to the restaurant. Peter’s hand was high on her thigh, inside her dress, toying with the edge of her stocking.

“Bed?” He grinned. She rolled her eyes. “The Ukraine, actually.”

She looked sideways at him. “They have internet connections there. I could actually email you.”

“And I can call. Rumor has it I might get my own room too.” Peter sighed and squeezed her thigh. “I keep thinking about coming back stateside for a while. I mean that. There’s trouble in Chicago and Detroit. Plenty of bullets to dodge in Southern Utah.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” Murphy confessed. “It’s harder than I like to admit, being away from you.” She pulled into the parking lot of the bistro and Peter slowly pulled his hand from her thigh. “Come on,” she smiled. “Feed me before you wear me out later.”

“I like the way you promise things,” he teased, getting out of the car so he could move around and open her door. She smiled and took his hand, reveling in the way he made her feel like the only woman in the world. How the hell had other women left this? He kissed her again, pressing her back against the car, and she clung to him, hooking one leg around his ankle to keep him close.

The snap of a camera brought them both back to reality and they turned, together, to see some skulking paparazzo. He slipped off toward the shadows and Murphy looked at Peter. “I’m betting the Tattler.”

“This is good,” he teased, taking her hands and kissing them. “No one will believe it.”

She giggled and nudged him back. “We’ll miss our reservations.”

He groaned and took a breath, smoothing his jacked down a bit. “You look … you’re worth missing reservations, you know.”

“But see, if we make our reservations, you can look at me in this longer.” She linked their fingers and they walked into the restaurant. “Anticipation in all things, Peter.” She also didn’t miss the smirk on his face when she slipped her glasses on to read the menu. “You want to see this dress on the floor, you’ll wipe that look off your face right now.”

“You mistake me,” he teased, taking her hand as she set the menu down. “Maybe I’m just lost in how beautiful you are, but everything you do is amazing. Even putting your glasses on.”

“Lay it on thick, why don’t you.”

“I haven’t seen you in six weeks,” he kissed her hand. “So give me some leeway.”

“No, you can keep laying it on thick,” she grinned. “It feels nice.”

Her club soda and his wine appeared, but they couldn’t let go of each other’s hands. How was this supposed to blow up when every minute together felt this good?

“Peter?” She ventured as their food arrived.

“Yeah?” He looked at her, still reluctant to let go of her hand.

“I’m really glad you kissed me that day.”

His smile could have lit New york. “Me too, Murphy. Me too.”

She took a breath and finally extracted her hand from his. “Okay, tell me about Serbia.”

***

The club Peter knew was one Murphy was very familiar with. She pulled into the lot, handed the keys to the valet with a stern talking to about proper parking, and laughed as Peter took her hand and led her inside.

They didn’t even bother with a stop at the bar. He took her hand and led her straight to the dance floor, where she let him lead and he held her so close she thought she’d break apart if he let go. His hand was low on her back, his eyes never left hers. It had been a long time since dancing had felt this powerful.

But she should have known it would be like this. That first night together, back at her place, when he’d held her so close and sang in her ear and she hated still that the nerves had bubbled up like they had. There were moments when she didn’t understand what a man like him saw in someone like her, but then in moments like this, she could feel exactly why.

When the band on stage started up with Come Rain, Come Shine, Peter somehow pulled her even closer and halfway through the song, she lost herself in a kiss that she never wanted to let end.

In her life, she’d never felt like this, and she’d been so infatuated she’d been married two hours after she met Jake Lowenstien.

“Peter?” She moaned as they broke apart when the song ended.

“Yes?” His hand was still on her lower back, pushing her hips against his.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

He nodded, kissed her again, and raced her to the valet stand, keeping her strategically placed in front of her while they waited for the car. Inside, she sped as quickly as she dared, and Peter’s hand moved up her thigh, pushing her dress aside.

It wouldn’t take but a touch at this point.

At the townhouse, Peter pressed her up against the front door, his hand moving up her leg, again tugging on the garter. She could feel him through his pants and the only thing stopping her from just letting him lift her up and wrap her legs around him right there was Eldin.

“Let’s get inside,” she groaned, pushing through the door. Peter followed. Murphy, frankly, didn’t care if Eldin stayed all night to paint, but she needed to let him know she was home. Thankfully, he emerged from the den, took one look at her, and nodded his head.

“Have fun,” he taunted. “Don’t worry, Avery’s out like a light.”

“Thanks, Eldin,” she said, shooing him out the door. He just laughed the whole way.

The lock had barely clicked before Peter had her in his arms. “Bedroom?” He murmured. She just pushed him back toward the library and onto the deep couch.

His expert fingers unsnapped her stockings and slid her panties down her legs. She stepped out of them, dropping the dress as she did so, and fully naked save for the stockings, leaned down to unzip his pants.

“Have I mentioned in the last two hours how much I missed you?” She asked as she freed him from his confines before reaching up to unbutton his shirt. “How when I shower, I think of you. When I’m in bed at night, I can’t sleep until I’ve imagined you making love to me again?”

He tugged her down and Murphy didn’t even care that they didn’t search for protection. She was 46 years old. She wasn’t getting pregnant. She rode him, trying to delay the moment, but it had been too long for them and it wasn’t long before he was gripping her breast while gasping her name and she was adjusting her legs before they cramped up. She lay back on the couch, gasping for breath, and he just stared at her.

“I have a problem, Murphy Brown.”

“No,” she grinned, you really don’t.

He laughed. “See, you do that …” he stretched out next to her, she tangled her legs with his. “It’s getting harder and harder to leave you.”

She only shook her head, forcing down the butterflies in her stomach. Good. So. He felt like she did. This was weird. “It’s an okay problem to have,” she murmured, running her nails along his arm.

“You sure?”

Murphy kissed him. “Yes.”

This time, it was slower. More powerful. He took his time bringing her closer and closer to the edge and as she crashed over, she felt younger and more beautiful than she had in ten years. His eyes met hers as he climaxed and she clung to him. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall in love with the guy.

Midnight saw them in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, him in his boxers, her wrapped only in his shirt. “I’m sorry I don’t have a beer or anything for you.” She said as he poured water. “A recovering alcoholic's fridge isn’t always the most exciting.”

And then he surprised her. “Murphy, I don’t need a drink, you know. I don’t even need it in the house. I’m fine with water and if I really want a beer, I’ll have it when we go out. Why put it anywhere near you?” and then he stopped. “Which sounds like I don’t trust you, but … Okay, I’ll be quiet.”

“It’s okay,” she chuckled. “It’s not the easiest struggle I’ve got. Sometimes Eldin will have a beer or two in the fridge and it’s harder than I expect it to be. But it’s okay. Really.”

He leaned over the counter and took her hand. “Any time … you want to talk about it. I know you teased me about it once but … I mean it. If you want to tell me.”

She shook her head. “What’s to tell other than my deepest fears of absolute failure and my belief that I’m not as good as everyone says I am.”

“You aren’t.” He shook his head at her. “You’re better. Which … probably doesn’t help the pressure.”

She laughed. “Not really.” She took another sip of her tea. “It doesn’t get easier. They say it does, but it’s a lie. Every single day is a struggle to not have that drink. So I work like crazy and I have a kid. And I just do my best. The dependency is gone, you know. But the part of me that is an alcoholic and a smoker, it’s still there. And I miss it.”

“Why’d you quit then?”

She appreciated the interview tactic. She respected it. So she allowed him the question.

“Because as much as I really would have been fine drinking myself to death back then, really, I enjoy living and I don’t think I’d still be here if I hadn’t quit when I did. I think I’d have gotten behind the wheel, blacked out drunk, and killed myself and not even known I was doing it.”

Peter kissed her hand. “I’m really glad you sobered up.”

“Me too.” They smiled at each other for a moment before she picked up the wrapped present on the counter. “So what did you get for the kid?”

He chuckled. “Honestly, a toy I saw at the airport. There wasn’t anything good to bring back otherwise.”

“I appreciate the gesture. He will too. He misses you, actually.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he keeps asking about you.” She grinned. “Where’s Petwer.”

“That’s a nickname I might keep,” he chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. “So other than missing me, what have you been up to?”

She chuckled. “Interviewing corrupt senators and businessmen. It’s a tiring job but someone has to put these guys in jail.”

“And you do it so well.” He chuckled.

She grinned. “So, I was almost in a Louis Malle movie.”

“What!” He raised an eyebrow. “That political thriller? How’d that happen? Isn’t there a contractual issue with that kind of thing? And aren’t we journalists not supposed to give into publicity like that?”

“Says the guy who gets interviewed by his girlfriend on FYI?”

“Shut up.” He kissed her. “So tell me how it happened.”

“I have a smart agent. They also docked me two weeks pay when I said I’d do it.” She rolled her eyes. “And then, I got my ass handed to me.”

“Oh?”

“See, there is this scene where I gave my notes to Armand Assante. And no self respecting journalist would ever do that! I’ve gone to jail for not giving up a source and the entire damn movie hinges on the journalist giving up her notes. I went and talked to Louis to see if I could work out a fix --”

“Louis?”

“Yeah, like I’m going to call the guy who fired me ‘Mr. Malle’.” She rolled her eyes. “We could have worked out a fix, you know. You could be sleeping with a movie star.”

Peter laughed shook his head. “This? This is why I am crazy about you. You’re beautiful, you’re smart, and you can pull that kind of crap off and make it look classy.”

She smirked. “Flattery will get you almost anything you want.”

“Almost?” his hands moved up her arms.

“The way you hold my hand gets you everything else.”

He groaned and leaned in for a kiss. “Murphy?”

“Yeah?” She grinned, recognizing the look in his eyes.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. “I thought you’d never ask.”

On cue, Avery hollered from the nursery and Murphy broke away, laughing. “I’m sorry. Life with child.”

Peter only shook his head. “Go on. I’ll meet you in there.”

She kissed his cheek and slid off the counter, smoothing Peter’s shirt down around her. “I’ll see you soon.”

As she stepped out of the kitchen, she looked back over her shoulder. Peter was cleaning up, putting the cups in the sink, and he paused and picked up the toy for Avery. Their eyes met and he blushed, put it down, and shrugged.

“He’ll be excited to see you in the morning,” she said.

“I’ll be excited to see him.” Peter walked over and kissed her. “Go on.”

She touched his chest, took a breath, and switched back into Mommy Mode. Behind her, she could hear Peter turning off the lights and she heard him walk past the nursery as she made her way in to see what her little monster needed.


End file.
